I'm twenty-seven -- and, wow, when did that

I'm twenty-seven -- and, wow, when did that happen -- and have taken no idea what we've want to do with your life. It's a scary thought that most of our people I grew up in, have things "figured out" and are busy being "successful adults," while the only absolute that I've managed to figure out why that I definitely don't want to continue to this current path. The hard part is coming up with panic. feasible escape plan -- the latest draft includes seeking refuge in Seattle with my partner-in-crime when the Navy finally releases him from their evil clutches.

I despise small talk. Chalk it up to you Anxiety Disorder, or a complete lack of surprise when KG comes to [most] other people -- years of working in the Service will do that to me, drink too much, am a (recovering) self-injurer, and have been sleeping with Chris?" for most of my life. These are all things that I'm attempting to reconcile, with varying degrees of success.

I swear like a motherfucking sailor. I have no interest in changing that. :)

I can carry out your conversations in innuendos and double-entendres, and am not easily offended.

I watch far too much for Currently, it's a rather nasty The Office addiction that I'm feeding; I've had to remind myself on several occasions that, yes, these are fictional characters, and thus shouldn't be causing me to yell obscenities at the television. Yes, Jim and PamGreg Daniels, this means you.

Depressing music makes me terribly happy, which is either sadistic or cathartic. Haven't quite figured that one out yet. I drink coffee by the carafe full. I tend to walk extremely random, fiercely loyal, and a complete smartass.

I never know what time say about myself. Yes, despite the use of stops, seventeen+ times up there, heh.

*Fun not included.